


I'll Be There

by nerdywithatwist



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdywithatwist/pseuds/nerdywithatwist
Summary: Nearly ten years ago Rafael Barba let someone walk out of his life without a fight. Now that circumstance throws them back together can they find their way back to each other? Or will the danger that they face now end in tragedy.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. A Call In The Night

**Rafael**

I scrubbed my hands over my face and pushed away the small mountain of paperwork in front of me. It was late, later than I intended to wrap up but there was a motions hearing in the morning and a proffer negotiation in the afternoon that I needed to oversee. I sighed and started to clean and organize, hoping to leave soon and get some semblance of rest for a few hours before returning to the office tomorrow. I focused on organizing papers before standing to stretch and throw away the empty takeout containers that littered my conference table. From across the room, my phone started ringing, while not unusual to get a late night call I couldn’t think of a reason that wasn’t an emergency. I checked my watch hoping that someone had a very good reason to call this late. My breath hitched when I read the name _Annie_ flash with a photo I snapped of her first bite of a New York slice on one of our early dates. Recovering I answered quickly, not wanting to miss the call. 

“Hello?” Trepidation snuck into my voice. 

“Hello sir, my name is Janet I’m a nurse in the emergency room of Mount Sinai West Hospital. Do you know an Ianthe Grey?” My earlier trepidation was burned out as fear swept from the top of my head to my toes. 

“Uh, yes. She’s a friend.” Feeling disoriented my free hand reached out to grip the edge of the table needing support. 

“I’m sorry to inform you, she was brought in a little while ago. You’re listed as an emergency contact, can you come to the Hospital, her doctor has some questions?” 

I had to clear my throat before answering, “Yes, I’ll call a car now.” 

Leaving my office was a panicked blur, grabbing my attaché bag, throwing my jacket on, and barely remembering to remember to lock the office door. As I sat in the back of the town car terrible images started to go through my head, a car crash, slip in the shower, mugging. As my anxiety started to ratchet up I eventually fell back on praying the rosary trying to calm my nerves. 

I hurried into the emergency room flashing my Assistant District Attorneys badge at the first person behind the nurses station. 

“Ianthe Grey!” The nurse looked me up and down before directing me to one of the ICU bays. The curtains were closed, and I stood rooted to the spot for a moment terrified at what I’d find. Seconds later I didn’t get the chance as the curtain was slid aside and caught a glimpse. Her long hair was limp, some caught in the neck brace she was still wearing, the fluorescent lights robbing it of the red and copper tones I knew were there. Parts of her face were red I could see where the bruises would develop. A few butterfly bandages across her right cheek, air cannula resting in her nostrils. Rage coursed through my body. The doctors steps faltered as he noticed me blocking his way. 

“Are you Ms. Grey’s emergency contact?” 

Automatically I reached out to shake his hand “Rafael Barba.” It took everything to not just brush past him and confirm the sight before him was real. 

“Yes, I’m…” I trailed off wondering what to say and glanced at her again. There were a few choices, her emergency contact, her friend, _her ex_.

I settled with just the facts, “Yes I’m her emergency contact. What’s happened.” 

The next few minutes were a blur, the doctor explaining her injuries. She was currently medically unconscious, between the pain meds and an abundance of caution, they had knocked her out. Cuts and contusions across her body, a fractured rib, three others were questionable and they were monitoring for flail chest, her head CT came back clear, left wrist was swollen- possibly a sprain, scalp hematoma, and a few intramuscular hematoma which they were significant enough that they were monitoring for compartment syndrome, and mild dehydration. I crept closer as the injuries were explained, wishing to god I wasn’t seeing her helpless in a hospital bed. 

The doctor ended his explanation with a small pause, “Sir, she’s currently unconscious. I have to ask, do you want a rape kit run?” 

I swayed and closed my eyes trying to block out more terrible images of what might have happened. I have seen enough crime scene photos to have an active and accurate imagination. Before I could answer the he heard someone say Dr. Anand’s name and someone pulled the curtain open again behind me. I turned my attention back to Ianthe, reaching out to brush a stray hair off her face gently. I was vaguely aware of someone saying my name but all I could hear the rushing of my own blood in my ears until I felt a hand on my elbow. I jerked suddenly, my focus coming back to the room and turned. Ending up face to face with Lieutenant Benson. _Olivia._ Of course if the doctor asked if I wanted a rape kit SVU would show up eventually. I could feel my two worlds crashing. Personal and professional and for a heartbeat I saw Olivia’s professional mask crack. The moment she realized that I wasn’t just there as an ADA, but that I was involved somehow. 

I could feel my wits beginning to fray, and I dropped my bag to reach for Olivia’s arm, my grip firm. Seeking support. She expertly navigated me to a chair outside the emergency ICU room, energy leaving me as I dropped ungracious into it. Someone pressed a cup of water into my hands, giving me something to focus on momentarily, it was cool and I drank it in one pull. I hunched over trying to breathe and belatedly I noticed that my attaché bag was by my feet, someone had moved it. I could feel someone’s hand on my back making small soothing circles. I tried to compartmentalize my feelings away from the current situation, going over the facts on hand. 

Someone on my left was talking to me. I came back to reality mid sentence, “... do you know where she was earlier?” I looked up at Olivia and shook my head. We both sat back as a nurse came to check on me. Taking my wrist to check my heart rate I calmed further trying to hold it together. I noticed her name badge _Janet Roberts RN._

“You called me?” She seemed to brighten slightly at his speaking. Letting go of his wrist and patting his shoulder. 

“I did, we wondered who was going to answer. You’re just listed as ‘Jackass’ in her contacts. 

I closed his eyes and sighed, “Even unconscious she’s gotta make a joke.” Looking towards the ICU room again I found both the curtains drawn and the sliding doors closed, I saw camera flashes and realized they were collecting evidence. 

“Did I sign?” 

Janet nodded, “You did. When they’re done she’ll be moved to a private room to be monitored.” Janet left with another gentle pat on his shoulder. I looked over at Olivia, realizing she hadn’t left left me. 

She was quiet but firm, “We need to talk.” 

Feeling more in control I nodded, stood and took a deep breath, “Can we do it in there? I don’t want her to be alone.” 

Olivia also pulled herself up and gently held onto my arm to stop me. 

“Carisi’s in there, we got her.” Olivia steered me away from the room, “Tell me about Ianthe.” Her notebook was out, pen ready. 

“Annie.” I stopped her, knowing she’d kill me if I didn’t correct that. “She goes by Annie.” Olivia took a note and looked back at me expectantly. 

“I’m sorry Olivia, I don’t know. We’ve not seen or spoken to each other in nearly a decade. We left things…” I trailed off trying to think of an explanation, finding none. How do you explain that you quietly dated your best friend's sister, and the falling out you had destroyed all the relationships between you. 

Olivia’s eyebrows arched “Nearly a decade of silence but you’re still her emergency contact?” I gave a single grunt of laughter but the humor of the situation didn’t soften the tightness in my body. Olivia sat us both down in a small waiting room. “What was the nature of your relationship.” 

“We dated for almost two years, then she moved to Washington.” Olivia wrote that down. 

“D.C. or the state?” I tried to focus on the questions, but memories of her, of us, came flooding back. The way she tilted her head to kiss me with the sun bouncing off her hair, the feel of her hand holding mine walking on the street in the snow, the way her body felt against mine when I’d sneak up behind her in the kitchen. My fingers twitching remembering the feel of her squeals of laughter as I tickled her. I pushed the memories aside. “D.C. she works in politics.” 

Olivia nodded and wrote some more, “Did you know she was in town?” I shook my head, “I know she must travel here sometimes but I didn’t know she was here today.” 

Olivia paused and reached out to hold my arm reassuringly, “What did you do today?” I knew this question was coming, any officer worth a damn would ask, and even as soon as any anger in being accused blossomed it fled resigned to answering her questions. 

“I slept in, met my mother for lunch after she went to Mass and went to the office to work. Security can confirm. So can Carmen. I was finishing up when I got the call.” 

We both looked up hearing a commotion at the nurses station, “Please someone here called me, her phone goes to voicemail. Please.” It took a moment for me to place the name. _Sasha_. I stood and lurched towards her. She felt more than saw the movement coming towards her and turned, her worry turning to shock at seeing me I stood awkwardly for a second at a loss for words until she stepped forward and folded me into her arms. 

“Is she here, what happened, oh my god Rafael is she okay?” I pulled back slightly, taking stock of the tall dark skinned woman in front of me. Sasha Jones was Annie’s best friend, they were inseparable in graduate school and it looked like that friendship had remained. 

“She’s here- injured but alive. Recovering. This is Lieutenant Benson with the NYPD.” I stepped aside as Olivia came up and led Sasha back to the small waiting area we had departed. Feeling at a loss I wandered back towards the ICU room to pick up my bag. The SANE nurse was making final notes and sealing the paper bag of evidence as an orderly was unlocking wheels readying her to be moved. The nurse explained that they were taking her to get cleaned up and settled and I’d be able to see her in a little while. 

She looked a bit better, more color in her cheeks, the neck brace had been removed. Memories battered me as I looked at her, I knew in that moment that I needed to be here for her. I needed to be strong enough for the both of us this time. The compass that usually kept me pointed towards things like work, justice, or coffee, suddenly started to point towards her. 

More memories of her rose to mind and my body flushed. Suddenly warm. Her in a tight fitting ball gown, asleep on my shoulder in a town car. Her hands running over my body in the early morning, both of us half asleep but awake with need. 

Detective Carisi left the room coming to stand alongside me, as we watched her gurney leave the practicalities of the next few days intruded on my thoughts. Meetings to reschedule, appointments to move. Poor Carmen would have to juggle the office for a few days alone. Sonny turned to leave but paused gripping my shoulder for a moment and I stopped him. “How did this happen?” 

“She called 911 herself. That “He attacked me.” ESU had to kick down the door to get to her. She was tied up, left abandoned on the floor.” I felt sick hearing the broad strokes of her case. I nodded putting facts and statistics together in my head. “Where?” Carisi looked around for Olivia before answering, “Fin and Rollins are with CSU at an apartment in Midtown.” 

“Carisi.” Olivia called for the young Detective, he gave a final squeeze to my shoulder and left him. 

\----

An hour later I had bought at least a few days away from the office. Carmen, god bless her, had always kept a contingency plan in place. Apparently she was fearful that I would walk in front of a New York City bus while texting and be out of commission for weeks so a few days was no trouble.

I sat, bone weary in a chair next to Annie’s bed. Her doctor explained that it was now a waiting game, that although there wasn’t any overt brain injury detected that she may be asleep for hours more. That “trauma had its own recovery schedule” It sounded to me like the trite line a doctor with little information would say to worried family members, but I tried took it at face value. 

_She would wake up, she would recover._ I kept saying that to myself as a prayer. Sasha and I had orbited each other quietly for the past few hours. Neither one wanting to upset the delicate truce we had silently fallen into. I could only imagine her opinion of me after all these years. A nurse came in to check Annie’s vitals again. He typed notes on his tablet and exited quietly, sliding the large frosted door closed. Sasha shifted in her chair and closed the case on her iPad. 

“We should talk.” My ire sparked, suddenly moody for no reason.

“Sure, how about them Yankees?” From the other side of Annie’s bed Sasha sighed.

“She always said you were funny.” Her voice was inquisitive with a slight hint of humor. I closed my eyes and reigned in my feelings.  
  
“I’m sorry, this all just comes as a shock. No contact for what, eight years, and she falls into my city suddenly? Falls into my life again?” More memories clawed for attention. 

He watched as Sasha set her iPad back in her bag and leaned forward resting her arms on Annie’s bed. “She’s been here two months Rafael.” I suddenly felt like all of my blood fell to my feet. The only reason I didn’t ever allow myself to think about her was the distance between here and Washington and the distance I put between us in my thoughts. Eight years ago I boxed up her things in my apartment and compartmentalized our life together into a dark, very rarely thought of recess of my brain. 

I studied Annie's profile, “But her job is in D.C., she left New York because of me.” 

Sasha nodded, “She left because you didn’t ask her to stay after the fight. You haven’t kept up with her career have you?” 

I shook my head looking back at Sasha as she continued, “We opened our own firm a little under two years ago. She hasn’t worked in politics directly for two and a half years. We both wanted to come back to the city. I opened our New York offices six months ago, she shut down the D.C. office three months ago and joined me. We’re doing well.” She said it in that way that rich, powerful people say it. I wasn’t surprised, both of them were some of the most capable people I’d ever met, but I never figured Annie would strike out on her own. 

“She gave up politicians and mistresses?” My voice was slightly incredulous. 

Sasha shrugged, “She diversified her portfolio, but she’ll never give up on mistresses.” She stood to stretch, “The detectives from last night want to interview the office so I’m headed there to assist.” I nodded, of course they were going to try to put her timeline together. 

She continued, “Her assistant’s bringing up her Go Bag for when she wakes up, I’ve had them pick up an extra change of clothes for you. You’re rumpled.” She stated it as fact and not an accusation. They both had been keeping vigil overnight yet somehow she still looked like she was headed into a board meeting. She was decidedly unrumpled. 

I looked up at her, “Are you managing me Sasha?” She shook her head at me and swung her bag over her shoulder. “I’m managing the situation Rafael.” She nodded towards the private en-suite, “Take a shower, shave, change into clean clothing. Your assistant already got us everything you need.” 

She made to leave but paused and turned back at me. “I’ll never admit to saying this, and if you breathe a _word_ of it I’ll deny it. But she misses you. Don’t mistake me, she’s perfectly fine without you, but... she’s different. More guarded.” I was at a loss for words, and didn’t get the chance to respond as she slid the hospital room door open and left.

A little while later a young woman wheeled in a Zero Halliburton spinner and my emergency duffel from my office into the room. Once again Carmen was going above and beyond her job title. Annie’s assistant was also carrying a large bouquet of flowers in a vase. I idly wondered how much an arrangement that large by a florist before 7am cost as set them next to her. Hopefully they would be the first thing she saw when she woke. _She would wake up, she would recover._

I took one last searching look at Annie before standing, deciding to follow Sasha’s advice.


	2. You Again

**Annie**

Everything hurt, and worse I had an itch. I tried to reach, to scratch, but it just made everything hurt worse and I didn’t feel my body respond. Everything seemed suspended in time, until I remembered what happened. Why I was in pain. 

I could hear someone talking faintly. My eyes felt impossibly heavy but I still tried to open them. I could feel a hand stroking my hair as my eyes opened to small slits. Tears pricked my eyes as I tried to focus on the face in front of me. Green eyes with spectacular shots of golden amber. 

_Shit._

Feeling more in control I tried to reach up, to confirm that I wasn’t just having a dream. Rafael caught my hand and kissed my fingers. “Hola, a rún.” The incongruity of his Cuban accent next to an Irish term of endearment confused me a moment. He looked over his shoulder and said something, I tried to lean up and see who was there, but my ribs protested and I gave up.

“What happened?” My mouth felt like cotton balls left out in the desert sun, I could barely get the words out. Rafael stood and leaned over my bed reaching for the controls, my back slowly sitting up. I closed my eyes as his cologne, his presence, hurtled me down memory lane even while more recent events also swam into thoughts. Flashes of how I ended up in the hospital played on my eyelids and my grip tightened on Rafael's hand desperate for connection. Even with my eyes closed I could feel the moment he focused back on me, the thrum of energy between us. I opened my eyes trying to catch my breath. 

“Hey hey hey. It’s ok, you’re safe.” His voice was soft as he set my hand down and gently wiped a tear off my cheek. 

“Doctor first, then we can talk.” My ribs shifted slightly and I winced. 

“Good! You’re up!” The doctor was all smiles at seeing me awake and sitting up. 

Rafa stepped back making to exit the room, “I have some calls to make.” 

Nearly two hours later I was feeling a bit better, after the exam the doctor walked me through my injuries and healing times. The long and short of it was I needed rest, the worst injury was my rib and that should be fully healed in a month. Parts of the night before were still a disorienting blank, the doctor assured me that they didn’t find evidence of any sexual trauma in their exam but that support was still available if I needed it. He explained that they found an injection site on my upper arm and drug residue from midazolam around it. This was confirmed by a blood test, I wasn't allowed to have any grapefruit for a few days but it should be out of my system soon. He also informed me that if my last set or labs came back normal in the afternoon, I would be discharged later that day. 

An orderly came in after the doctor and helped me to the bathroom and assisted with a shower. As much as it hurt washing my hair I felt a thousand percent more human with it clean. She also dug out a cardigan from my travel case and it was comforting to wear something I actually owned and not just a hospital gown. Even more exciting, someone ordered me lunch. Which the nurse advised I eat slowly when she came in to check my vitals. 

I heard Sasha before I saw her. The distinctive clip of her heels on tile was music to my ears. My heart leaped at knowing she was near. My best friend and business partner was a welcome distraction from the pain. She breezed into my room dressed for the office, crisp professional dress and fitted blazer, heels that made her already towering height even more imposing. Rafael still hadn’t returned from making his calls and part of me wondered if I had imagined him. 

She smiled at seeing me awake and slid the door partially closed before hurrying over to my bed. She stopped short before hugging me, “Where can I hug you?” I leaned forward a little, my ribs protested the movement. “Anywhere above the bra, and gently.” She settled for around my shoulders, half hunched over due to her height. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand. “I love you. I’m sorry this happening to you. Take all the time you need, the office is fine and everything is under control.” I nodded and sat back. I appreciated that she said exactly what I needed to hear, short, to the point and said with empathy. 

I closed my eyes and sighed, “No emergencies?” She tilted her head, “None. Until this. You were days from finishing the response plan for the aviation company, Kevin can handle that including delivery. The political schedule is clear for a few months, and none of the companies with retainers have done anything stupid.” 

I hissed a breath, “That won’t last.” That was one of the reasons I love public relations and crisis management, someone, somewhere was about to screw up. 

“Take the win.” Rafael’s voice was clear from across the room. I looked over to see him standing in the doorway, hands jammed in his pockets. I looked back to Sasha, “I thought he was a hallucination.” I could feel emotions bubbling, starting to overwhelm me. “Not a hallucination.” She confirmed. He snorted walked towards my bed. 

Sasha patted my hand, “They called me at first but I was in a meeting until after midnight.” I looked back at Rafael. “Hey.” It was the only hello I could muster after eight years. His mouth twitched with a half second of a smile, “Hey yourself.” 

Sasha squeezed my hand gently, “Thank you for calling with the update Rafael, we were all happy to hear that she was awake and will be discharged soon.” 

Rafael nodded and sat in one of the chairs near the bed, “Of course Sasha.” I narrowed my eyes observing the flow of conversation between them. 

Sasha set a tote bag gently on my lap. “Your second favorite casual tote, stocked as usual. Your phone is evidence, you have another now already synced up.” 

I looked down at my lap, “Don’t you have better things to do than drop this off?” 

Sasha stood and shrugged. “I’m sure, but you’re more important to me than just the company. Plus we did our jobs too well, they can run for weeks without us.” 

She paused to really study me. I had done the same in the shower earlier, bruises and a few cuts but mostly intact. She seemed to shake herself out of whatever she was thinking about and leaned over for a long hug. She pressed a quick kiss to my temple and whispered too low for Rafael to hear, “Give him a chance Annie.” 

I shot her a look and she laughed gently at me. “Listen to your elders.” She nodded to Rafael and departed. 

I shifted, making to get out of bed and Rafael jumped out of his chair. “Here let me help.” He took the tote and set it on the couch next to my open carry on. 

I sat on the edge of the hospital bed at a loss. “Rafa it’s okay. You don’t have to be here.” 

He turned back towards me and gave a tight smile, “What if I want to be here.” I stood with a wince and watched as he resisted rushing to help. I padded towards him pulling my cardigan tightly around me. 

“I’m saying you don’t have to stay here out of guilt.” 

He took a small step forward, “That’s not what this is.” 

I stopped just shy of touching him. Chest to chest, hugging myself. He slowly reached up to touch my face, pausing and holding his hand over my cheek. I could feel the warmth of his palm, he was silently asking for permission. I considered pulling back but remembered Sasha’s advice and turned into the touch. 

This time when I closed my eyes I didn’t see yesterday. I saw him. Him dressed for bed but staying up late reading just to welcome me home. Silently asking for help with his cuff links on stressful trial days. Long showers together on the weekends. 

I startled, leaning back and breaking contact. “You feel it too?” It was barely a whisper. His hand rested on my shoulder his thumb finding my pulse. 

“It’s just memories Rafael, we have history.” He seemed to consider this for a moment. 

“You are right, about guilt.” I let a small breath out as a sigh, happy he was seeing the light.

“Oh thank god-“ I didn’t get further.

“I felt guilt eight years ago when I gave up without a fight. Guilt that I ruined my friendship with Niall, and shame that the things he said about me might be true.” He moved to gently trace the outline of a bruise on my cheek. His eyes were bright with tears, his expression open and vulnerable. I remembered this Rafael, the one that showed up when the outside world wasn’t there. The connection between us hummed- I felt it in my chest like the first note of a violin in a hushed room. 

“Tell me to leave, tell me you’re not feeling anything and I’ll go. No questions asked. But if there’s _anything_ still between us, let me help. Let me try.” 

He looked pained as he broke contact completely and took a step back, leaving the decision to me. I watched as the vulnerability was erased from his face with every passing second. The remote, calculating prosecutor taking its place. A realization dawned in my chest, there _was_ something still between us. I had let myself believe that he came out of obligation, out of his damned strict morals and nothing else. 

I closed my eyes, my entire body was bruised and sore but I could still feel him in my bones, the smallest electric buzz of connection even when we weren’t touching. 

I lost time for a moment remembering the past before I shook myself out of it. 

“Stop.” It was barely a whisper. I opened my eyes to find him farther than I expected, leather duffel slung over one shoulder. He came back as I loosened my arms and reached for him. He dropped the bag at our feet and cupped my face, stooping slightly to make eye contact. 

“I’d like to kiss you.” His voice was soft and full of unspoken emotion. I laughed and leaned into his palm, relishing the contact. 

“I’d like that.”


	3. The Interview

**Rafael**

Normally when I was watching an interview I was at ease just observing. I may not like how a detective asked a question or pressed an interviewee but I trusted the officers to conduct it. Rarely getting involved and only when necessary. But this was setting my teeth on edge. Watching and listening to the detectives interview Annie, forcing her to rehash her attack was nearly unbearable. 

I stood at the foot of the hospital bed listening to every word, worried about how Annie was coping. I wanted to pace or to jam my hands into my pockets and glower. Instead I gripped the foot rail tighter and tighter as Annie talked. Olivia pulled me out after ten minutes, “You need to calm down.” I scoffed and made to push aside her, she bodily stopped me. “Get your head on straight Rafa or get out, she can sense your anger and it’s distressing her.” 

“She needs to rest and  _ heal _ Olivia. She can’t heal if she’s reliving every terrible moment in there. Her schedule as she remembers it, people she talked to, anyone that might have a grudge.”    
  
Olivia put her hands up. “I don’t disagree with you, but we need to do our jobs. He could try to come back. He attacked her in her own home Rafa, he kept her tied up for  _ hours _ .” Olivia pushed him farther away from Annie's room. “You’ve seen the aftermath, are you hearing her? He kept threatening to rape her, that she would love it. This guy needs to be off the streets. He’s not done with her.” 

I closed my eyes and swayed, thinking about that. My stomach roiling. I felt Olivia put her hands on my shoulders helping steady and ground me.  _ She’s still in danger. _ I took a few deep breaths and refocused. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I need to focus on what’s best for her.” Olivia waited a moment making sure this change in my temperament would stick before letting go and leading us back to the doorway.

Annie flashed a smile as we came back into the room, distracted she had to ask Carisi to repeat the question. 

“He left you in the bathtub.” Although I had always thought of Carisi as a bit of a dope but I appreciated the kid gloves he was using with Annie. His questions were through but gentle. Indeed Annie seemed to be at ease talking to him. I made a mental note to observe other victim interviews of his to study his technique. 

She nodded, “Uh, he left me tied up, he filled the tub with cold water. Only turned the cold water tap on.” A look crossed over her face, I could tell she was thinking through something. Analyzing it, weighing the evidence. Olivia leaned forward, about to prompt her again. I made a small gesture, hoping to stop her. I’d seen that look before.    
  
Annie snapped out of her thoughts and smiled slightly. “He wasn’t wearing a glove.” Both Olivia and Carisi leaned forward at hearing this. “What.” 

She nodded and her voice sounded a bit stronger when she responded. “It broke when he was getting me into the tub, it got caught on the duct tape and split the palm open. He tore it off and stuffed it in the wrist of his good glove.” 

She mimicked the motions with her own hands. “But he used his bare hand to open the tap. When he came back he was wearing new gloves, the same as I keep under my sink. Clear vinyl not black nitrile. I never saw the black gloves again.” 

She sagged back into the bed for a moment, and I could tell that the interview was taking its toll. I wanted to put a stop to it and let her sleep.  _ No way out but through. _

Annie took a deep breath and continued slowly. “He pulled me out of the water at some point. I was pruny and freezing. He removed the gag to ask a question. Something about if I missed him and I asked him for something to drink, I was thirsty. He bundled me in a flat sheet and left me in the hallway maybe fifteen feet from the front door. I heard someone in the corridor, and I knew it was my chance.” I could see her trembling a little, I resisted going to comfort her. 

“I started screaming for help, begging for someone to call 911. He  **flipped** out, stuffed a kitchen towel in my mouth to shut me up and kicked me a couple times. All I could taste was cotton.” Her face went a little green remembering before she continued. “Someone knocked. There was a conversation. The door closed. He pulled me up partially by my hair and backhanded me. He was saying something, “You ruined it.” or maybe “us”. He left at some point after that. Pretty soon after that I think.” 

Annie stopped talking for a minute and her eyes drifted, staring unfocused out the window. Olivia prompted her gently. “You called 911.” 

“Yeah. I laid there for a little while, he took my keys, I thought he was going to come back.” 

Every muscle in my body tightened hearing that he still had her keys, that he knew where she lived. “Eventually, I realized it was more dangerous to wait. I dragged myself over to my purse. I had to dig around for it. I used the SOS feature to call. A woman named Katie stayed with me until someone took my door down.” 

She took a drink of water pausing the story. “I remember some of the ambulance ride, but nothing else until I woke up here a little earlier.” I watched as the stress started to crack her, her eyebrows knit together and her mouth tight. I looked at Olivia waiting for a sign that the interview was over, she sat back in her chair and glanced at me.

I hurried to the side of the hospital bed and held my hand out offering support but allowing her to make the decision about having contact. She immediately reached for it pulling me closer, her cheeks were wet with tears. She leaned forward into me and I cupped my hand behind her head bringing her face into my chest. I murmured nonsense for a little while she worked on settling down. 

She leaned back, still crying but calmer and looked at Benson and Carisi, “Thank you both for…” she trailed off for a second trying to find the right thing to say. “Just thank you both.” 

Annie cleared her throat, “There’s a box of letters you need. I had a stalker on and off for a few years. I don’t know if it’s tied to this, but it may. They’ve been quiet since before I made the move here. I had hoped that the fixation had ended in D.C.. Capitol Police have a few reports but nothing was really done. You can speak to Detective Lewis there, my assistant has his info.” 

My blood ran cold finding this new piece of information, I knew there was no way whomever was menacing her wasn’t involved. This wasn’t a random push in assault, this was planned. She didn’t remember when or how he got into the apartment, just that she woke up after midnight on Sunday and something was wrong. 

Carisi nodded, “Your assistant delivered them this morning.” 

Olivia closed her notebook, “I think we have all the information we need for now. I have to tell you however your apartment is still a crime scene. Do you have someone you can stay with?”

“You can come home with me.” My voice was quiet but firm. For a second Annie looked like she was going to protest, but just nodded instead.    
  
“We’ll talk about it Rafa.” 

Olivia pulled her business card and handed it to Annie, “If you think of anything let us know.” 

“Of course.” I made sure Annie was comfortable and followed Olivia out keeping the door partially open so I could check on her. Carisi gave us both a nod and walked towards the nurses station as Olivia and I looked at each other for a moment. “Who are they putting on this?” 

“Cutter is still looking for a good fit, he’s been checking in in lieu of a lead.” I sighed, anxious about factors I couldn’t control. 

I looked to confirm that the hospital room door was at least partially closed, “Any leads?”

“A couple, nothing solid. The elevator footage from her building has a few ‘unexplained’ time jumps but her neighbor has a Smart doorbell the company is getting us the data.” 

I nodded, realizing that whatever happened might have been done by someone more sophisticated than an average criminal. If Annie agreed to come stay with me for a few days I’d need to talk to the doorman about tightening whatever security we could. Thankfully they were often accommodating and understanding of security risks of having an ADA live in the building. I mentally pumped the brakes on planning too far ahead, I still needed to convince Annie that it was a good idea. 

Olivia made another note and looked up at me, “Wherever she stays, let us know so we can post a Uni outside.” 

I nodded and studied her for her for a moment, “You seriously think he’s going to come back?” 

Olivia tilted her head thinking, “I don’t want to risk it not with what we’ve seen.” She looked at me for a second studying my face. “How are you doing? How is she?” 

I took a deep breath and shrugged. “It’s driving me crazy not being involved, so I’m focusing on her. She’s coping better than other women I’ve seen in situations like this, but she’s always been stronger than you’d expect.” Olivia threw me a questioning glance and I looked over to Annie’s bed, she looked asleep. 

“Her mom died when she was a kid and her dad couldn’t handle having her around as a reminder, sent her away to boarding school. When her dad died while she was on her gap year she took care of the estate for herself and her brother. Went to college, went to grad school. Niall had already been living in Hong Kong for a few years by then.” 

What I didn't say out loud most likely spoke volumes to an investigator like Olivia. A phlebotomist was headed towards Annies door. I caught her attention, "Last tests Susan?" She smiled as she pushed open the door, "Two more hours? Then the doc will come by again and discharge." Some of the tension in my shoulders gave out, now I just had to convince Annie to stay with me. 

I could feel Olivia watching me. "What?" She threw her hands up in a gentle gesture of surrender. “You’re very different around her than you are at work.” I snorted with mild humor, “You should see her at work, she scares the daylights out of me.” I let a slow breath out and continued, “We made a deal when we started dating, we’d try to leave those people at work. Or at least the front door. It didn’t always work, we’re both always looking for the lie.” 

Olivia put a hand on my arm in encouragement and gave me a kind smile. “It’s just nice to see you in different lighting Rafa. Listen, I’ll try to keep you updated. Cutter is already fending off reporters. Between your involvement and her minor notoriety this could get ugly fast.” 

I nodded and tried to feel something other than dread. “I know, Liv. I just need…” I trailed off watching Susan leave with hopefully the last vials that stood between Annie staying here longer or healing somewhere more familiar. “... I need time? I lost her once, and nearly lost her again yesterday.” I looked back into the room, Susan had turned the lights down and Annie appeared to be curled on her side asleep again. 

He heard Olivia’s voice, “I know, it’s still early into the investigation. I’ll try to keep you updated with what I can. Keep her safe, but give her room. She may be strong but she’s going to crack at some point Rafael. She’s like glass. That moment when she’s pulled out of the fire but before she hits the table. That’s where you need to be.” 

I nodded, “I’m not going anywhere unless she sends me away.”

Every muscle in my body twitched, suddenly wanted to be in there with her but my thoughts kept me frozen in place. 

Olivia moved to squeeze my arm and departed. I stood bereft of purpose for a moment staring into her room before going to rest in the chair next to her bed. 

Twenty minutes later she woke with a gasp, and a wild panicked look in her eyes. I sat on the edge of her bed and held her hands while she came back to reality. She sat up with a wince and I gently pulled her onto my lap. The attack was affecting her, I was seeing evidence of it all the time. 

I thought back a vacation we took to Aruba, when waves kicked up and took her by surprise as she was trying to swim in. She was pulled under and then thrown on the beach, stunned and coughing water. When I made it to her after the next batch of rough waves she was lying on the beach, the waves crashing against her legs. She laughed when she saw my face, and pulled me down to kiss the stress and worry away. It was only later that night when I found her crying in the shower because of a watery nightmare that I realized how much it affected her. 

She quieted in my arms and rested her head against my throat, and I took a risk. "Come stay with me? No hotel, stay in my guest room?" Her hand creeped up to thread through the hair on the back of my head. She seemed almost ready to say something, I could feel the no she was about to utter. And then something seemed to soften, she relaxed a little in my arms. "Do you still drink coffee in the morning?" My heart gave a loud out of rhythm beat at that answer,  _ it wasn't a no _ . 

"That can be arranged."


	4. Coming Home

**Annie**

I don’t know what I was expecting in Rafael’s apartment but this surprised me and made total sense at the same time. A renovated pre war building on the Upper West Side with tall arched windows and off street portico, it glowed invitingly in the night. 

The black town car came to a stop and the driver hopped out to handle their bags. Rafael came around and offered me his hand as I opened the car door, I took it and felt the zing of energy between us. I adjusted and smoothed my faux wrap dress from the ride and turned to reach for my carryon, but came up empty handed when I looked behind me as Rafa had all of our bags in hand, including my large leather tote slung over his shoulder. 

It would be comical if it wasn’t so damned kind of him. I also knew better than to fight his help. He never pouted or whined, but he would lie in wait like a kind, ever caring Labrador until I conceded and needed his help. I’d learned this lesson a decade ago and wasn’t likely to forget it anytime soon. And what was worse, when I finally did throw in the towel he would never say ‘I told you so’ just smile sweetly and kiss my cheek. 

Coming up to my side he put his free hand on the small of my back and gestured towards the building. “Welcome to my home.” 

Rafa greeted the night doorman, moving across the lobby easy and comfortable in the space. In my time with him since I woke up I hadn’t felt this energy around him. It took me until he hit the call button for the elevator to figure it out. He was excited, excited to share his home with me. 

He pulled a set of keys from his pants pocket and tapped it on an RFID reader unobtrusively installed on the button panel. It lit up a light at the top of the panel the number next to it read  _ 15 _ . He made a show of putting it in the stash pocket of my tote, “Until you decide you don’t want it or don’t need it, these are yours. You’re always welcome here.” I was touched by the gesture, then again he’d always been welcoming of me in his space. Even early into the relationship I had keys to his apartment, often spending time there instead of my own place. The elevator binged open and we stepped off into a small foyer with only two doors, one to the left and the right. He wheeled our bags to the door that had  _ PH B _ in brass letters affixed to it and unlocked the door. 

It swung open silently and a delicious smell wafted out, Rafael narrowed his eyes and guided me inside. He closed and locked the door, leaving our bags stacked by the welcome mat. He called out into the apartment, “Mamá?" I tried not to smile at this development. Lucia Barba was a force of nature, where her son was the epitome of "still waters run deep" Lucia was more of a raging rapid. 

I heard a clattering in what I imagined to be the kitchen and a figure appeared in the doorway. "Hijo!" she was wearing a floral half apron, and weilding a wooden spoon in one hand. "You're home early!" The expression on his face looked happy but slightly bewildered. He approached asking a question in Spanish, as I kicked off my shoes by the front door. She gave him a tight hug and rounded on me, "Pobrecita!" 

She forced Rafael to take the wooden spoon and used the apron to make sure her hands were clean. She studied me for a moment before pulling me into a close tight hug. My ribs protested, but watching Rafael slowly decompensate into worry and frustration at his mother was priceless. He disappeared into the kitchen a moment and then came back out to find Lucia still holding me close, her hands cupping my elbows and asking me questions about my recovery. "Mamá, be gentle! She's healing." Lucia paused talking to me, "She's not a Fabergé egg Rafael." She focused back on me, "Rafael said you'd be staying here for a little while. I set up the guest room for you, your assistant dropped by a couple pieces of luggage, and I cooked ropa vieja for you." I kissed her on each cheek, "Muchas gracias Lucia." She gripped my elbows warmly, "Anytime hija." 

She let go and brushed past Rafael to go back into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with no apron and her purse over her shoulder. Giving me another long hug she whispered how good it was to see me before she caught Rafael's arm to walk her to the door. 

I wandered into the kitchen to peek at dinner, slow cooker of meat, yellow rice, black beans, and more. Lucia had gone all out in cooking. I grabbed a fork and took a bite of the rice relishing the flavor. "Sneak." Startled I turned to find Rafael leaning in the kitchen doorway, he had taken his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. 

Despite what had happened less than forty-eight hours ago something about him standing there, looking like that set my blood on fire. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and felt that electric zing in my body again. I breathed out suddenly, trying to hide my sudden arousal. He seemed to either not notice or ignore the reaction and moved closer to the stove. I chuckled and went for another bite before stepping to the side. 

He shook his head at me and started to dish out their meal onto two waiting plates. A selection of skirt steak, rice, beans, Lucia had even gone through the trouble of making sweet plantains for us. He flipped on a lightswitch and illuminated a breakfast bar overlooking the kitchen and let her pick a bar stool. 

In my job, I often had to take the rooms temperature, study people, and react to the situation. Rafael was fascinating to watch, he kept his body turned towards me, but he was struggling with something. A few bites in, his posture turned towards me even more. "To bring up a complicated topic." I thought for a moment before responding, "I haven't talked to Niall in months. We never were close, but now we're strangers who happen to share a last name and a financial advisor." He gave me a sad smile and turned back to his food for a moment. 

"I had always hoped..." he took a bite and was silent for a minute before continuing "that maybe, even for how terribly things had ended that maybe it would bring you two together. That he was finally ready to be a big brother, and not just come in suddenly, trying to be the head of the family." 

I shrugged a shoulder. "We email every few months, I still get his Christmas cards every year, an obligatory text on my birthday. But, he doesn't know me. Sasha's my family, she and Marc are who I celebrate anything with.” 

Rafael smiled at hearing this, "I'm glad they are still together." 

We continued our dinner in easy conversation, years of catching up still left between us. We lingered over empty plates, turned towards each other. There was a comfort between us; my bare foot braced on his bar stool, and at some point his hand landed on my knee and remained there. He caught a look at the time and moved to clear our plates dumping them in the sink with a clatter and putting leftovers away, conversation still flowing easily between us. 

He left the kitchen and I went around to wash the dishes, he found me setting the last plate into the drying rack. "Thank you." I nodded and he offered his hand for me. I dried my hands on a towel and took it gladly, following him down the hallway to the guest room. He rolled my case inside and laid it atop the dressing bench at the foot of the queen bed, he set my purse next to it. 

Rafael came back to me and pulled me into a gentle hug kissing my forehead. "I'm right down the hall, any reason, any reason at all, come find me." He started to leave and I caught his hand, "Can you?" I pointed over my shoulder to my dress. He nodded and I felt the zipper lower, the cool air hitting my bruises unsympathetically. He let go and left with his duffel, closing the door quietly. 

Minutes later I stood in the middle of the bathroom still wearing my dress, at a loss. Everything had changed in the past two days, my life was now the product of a thousand moments I wasn't in control of. Rafa and I still hadn’t talked much past his declaration that he wanted to try to repair something of our relationship. That conversation had ended with a chaste kiss and an orderly knocking to change my sheets. 

Looking around at Rafael's guest bathroom I thought about my own master bath. Thoughts of my apartment were still painful, tinged in memories of pain and terror. Truthfully I didn't miss my apartment, Sasha had outsourced a realtor to find something appropriate and secured it before my arrival. Her assistant and my assistant coordinating the rest of the details. It was too modern and empty for my tastes, white walls and abstract art. I did miss my bathroom a little. Sasha knew me well enough when she saw the photos on the listing that I would love it. 

I stripped off my dress and under garments wincing as I had to reach for the bra hooks on my back. I had forgotten to ask Rafa to handle that. I left a small pile on a small teak bench near the door. The hot water felt amazing for a few minutes, washing the smell of hospital antiseptic and detergent I felt like I was seeped in out of my hair and off my body. When things turned towards thinking about tomorrow my delicate grip on my emotions faltered. I buried my face into my hands and leaned onto the tile wall still under the water.


	5. Waiting

**Rafael**

I left my door cracked as I got ready for bed. I could hear the shower in the second bathroom running. There were the little things in the guest room I noticed and was sure Annie did as well. Mamá had set a couple water bottles on the nightstand and an extra blanket at the foot of the bed trying to make her feel a bit more at home.

I took a quick shower and changed into something comfortable for sleep. When I went back into the bathroom to brush my teeth I could still hear the shower in the second bathroom. I checked the clock, an unnamed worry creeping in my limbs. Annie could take long showers with the best of them but something felt off about this. I tried to dismiss it, she hated too much hovering. It wasn't until I cracked open my latest book that I remembered Aruba again. I dropped my book and strode to the second bathroom. "Annie?" I knocked on the door and got no reply. "Annie, I'm coming in." 

The room was full of steam and it was unbearably hot. "Annie!" I tore open the curtain to find her standing under the full blast of steaming hot water. Her face was in her hands, shoulder leaning into the tile, her body slightly slumped. Where her skin wasn't bruised it was beet red from heat.   
  
I turned the water off and grabbed a bath sheet. I remembered Olivia's words earlier, treading carefully at this moment. I stepped into the tub and wrapped the towel around her, she was still crying and barely acknowledged me. As much as I was prepared to, I didn't want to spend the night standing in my guest bathroom with a crying woman in my arms. 

"A rún, I don't know if I can pick you up and not hurt your ribs. Let me take you to bed." She nodded with a jerk and stepped out of the tub with me. I grabbed the hand towel from the rack and dried her hair, then worked on her arms. I made sure she was steady on her feet before crouching and drying her legs and feet. I stilled when I felt her hands running through my hair, gently resting my forehead against her for a minute. 

I led her out of the bathroom, the bath sheet still wrapped around her. "My room or yours Annie?" She hesitated, considering for a moment. “Yours. I just need, I need to be home.”

I knew it wasn’t exactly what she meant. She grew up without a strong connection to home, first boarding schools then college. She didn't get a chance to really live anywhere until her apartment in Hamilton Heights in graduate school. She just needed somewhere familiar. 

Thankfully the only light on in my bedroom was my nightstand, my book forgotten on the floor. I sat her on my side of the bed and went to my dresser, finding button front nightshirt for her and a pair of pyjama pants. She was standing when I turned back to her, studying a print on the wall. I slung the pants over my shoulder and held the shirt out for her. It slid easily over her shoulders and she let the towel drop. She then held up her hands, both of which were hiding in the sleeves of the shirt still, I heard a chuckle but it sounded hollow. I buttoned a few buttons for her and knelt down to help her with the pants. The cooler air had helped her skin turn less red, but the bruises were even more livid in this lighting. Red and purple shapes just below her skin. My breath hitched seeing them, remembering what she looked like in that hospital bed unconscious. 

It was easy to get her to rest, I sat on the edge of the bed and reached up for her drawing her into my lap. I freed a hand and turned the light off and scooted us back and drew the covers up around us. I rolled us over, still holding her so we were laying my front to her back. Selfishly I buried my face into her shoulder and neck trying to think of something comforting to say to her. 

She wasn’t crying, but she wasn’t asleep either. After a few quiet minutes I felt her body relax in my arms and I breathed a little easier. She didn’t leave my arms but moved so that we were front to front, my arms still around her. If I closed my eyes, it was almost eight years ago. We were just falling asleep after a long day, her tired after classes and meetings and me still working in the Brooklyn District Attorney's office. 

I had almost fallen asleep, when I heard her question in the darkness. “Do we really have a chance Rafa?” I pulled my body against her a little tighter, “Do you think you could love me again?” I was frightened of the answer, I had given up before, walking away and leaving her with no closure. She was quiet for awhile before whispering, “I don’t know if I ever stopped.” 

She was already gone from my bed when I woke the next morning, for a second I worried it was all some sort of nightmare. That I had imagined the entire event. When I rolled over I noticed that there was a large mug of coffee on the nightstand and knew that it wasn’t a dream. After my shower and shave, I found her still dressed in my pyjamas sitting on the floor of the living room, the coffee table covered in papers. “What’s all this?” She grabbed her mug and leaned back against the couch. “Crisis management.” She said it as a slight sigh. 

“You’re on leave, what case could you be working on?” I sat down behind her and she leaned her head back on my leg. 

“Mine. I want to figure out how to get out ahead of the story and make sure the spin is right. If anything goes to trial I'll want to be prepared.” 

Hearing that unsettled me more than I cared to admit. As a prosecutor, a trial was always something I was prepared for. As someone close to a victim who knew how draining court trials actually were I didn't want her to suffer further. I played with her hair, earning a hum of contentment. I tried to push my feelings aside, we could talk about it when it was a reality. I considered the fact that she was already planning and preparing for any response. Even when she couldn't work, she couldn't stop working. I shook my head at her, seeing the gears turn in her head was always fascinating. On more than one occasion her insights proved invaluable to how I would argue or speak to reporters about a case. “I can start the preliminary work now, plus it keeps me busy. Right now there's a lot of unknowns, we don't know if he'll be found." 

"He'll be found." I felt the muscles in my neck tense up, if New York was where she wanted to be I needed her to feel safe in the city again. 

She organized the documents she had been looking at on the table and scooted so that she was turned towards the couch. She looked me over from head to toe. "If you're not careful the truancy cops will come for you." 

I snorted into my coffee, "I'm all yours today, no truancy cops needed." 

She frowned and I watched the bruise on the side of her face change its shape slightly, “You’ve already spent one day away from the office.” She didn’t have to explain more, both were workaholics at times, for us an unexpected day off would cut against the grain. She looked like she was about to continue but I stopped her. 

“There’s nowhere I need to be more than right here. What do _you_ want to do today?” She put a hand on a knee and a hand on the coffee table and pushed herself up to stand. 

"That question is what caused last night's... " She stopped talking and looked sheepish. 

I gave her a lopsided smile, the one she occasionally would describe as a smirk. "Overabundance of emotions?" She flashed me a wry smile, "I was going to say 'meltdown' but that's a nice way to put it." 

She leaned over to pick up her own mug and drank a bit before cradling it to her chest, she seemed distracted. She moved around to the other side of the table and paced a little, I could see the moment I lost her to her thoughts. 

I stood and placed myself in her path. She nearly ran into me, I could hear her drink sloshing. 

“You didn’t answer the question.” I tried to be gentle asking again. She wasn’t on the stand, this wasn’t a cross examination. I did want an answer, but more than that I wanted to hear her voice. To hear what she was thinking, she was always thinking and puzzling over things. I just wanted her to let me in. She drank more from her mug and I worried about how many cups she already had today, I also wondered how long she’d been up already without company. 

“What I want to do or what I know I should be doing?” I took the mug from her hands and set it on the coffee table. I waited, trying to leave the habits of a career prosecutor behind for a moment. Her hands, now free hovered in the air for a moment before settling on my chest, she wouldn’t make eye contact with me. Her fingers traced the collar of my shirt gently.

“I talked to a trauma counselor today.” She wasn’t deflecting, this was related to the answer in some way. I looked at the clock on my bookshelf and noticed it was only 11:30am. She’d been up for awhile apparently. 

“Part of me wants to hide. Take a leave of absence, hide and shut myself off from the world for a while. But that’s not healthy, isolating myself would make everything worse.” She blew a long breath out, I could see her struggling and I resisted again trying to soothe it away. She had to come to terms with this herself, I could be there for her but I alone couldn’t make it right. “I need to live, I want to have my life back. So how do I do that?” 

I studied the bruise on her face, it was more purple today. The blood trapped under the surface was darkening looking more livid against her pale skin. She shrugged, “What do I do? Go shopping? Find a new apartment? Brunch?” I was happy that her focus was somewhere else for a moment, this response amused me beyond reason and I was trying not to laugh. Annie loved weekend brunch, going out, staying in and ordering delivery, or cooking from scratch. There was never a time that brunch wasn’t an option for her. 

I didn't say anything, just made a hum of acknowledgement. I reached for her elbows, wanting to feel connected to her. I noticed that she had rolled the sleeves up past her wrists to work. I saw another bruise developing, this one vaguely shaped like a hand. Parallel splotches of bruises from fingers peeking from the edge of my shirt, I had to take a breath to calm down. 

I knew what I wanted to do, I wanted to grab our bags and maybe our passports and leave the city for a few days. Maybe to the coast. Get her out of town and somewhere we both weren’t jumping at shadows for a few days. I remembered the statistics on the number of women that become agoraphobic after assaults, I was doing my damnedest to make sure she wasn’t just a statistic. Her hand reached up and traced my eyebrow before cupping my face and studying it. I noticed little things had changed about her face, a new laugh line that hiding by her right eye, the shadows deeper under her cheeks where she had lost the lingering baby face from her twenties. 

“I think…” she trailed off shuffling closer to me. “I’d like to go to the movies? It’s out and public but dark and you don’t talk. So people won’t ask about my bruises.” I nodded, she had put a decent amount of thought into this. I would sit through whatever terrible rom-com she picked willingly as long as she was okay. “Maybe a diner for an early supper?” Something in her face seemed to brighten, she shifted a little more upright. “Maybe grab some cheesecake?” 

“Juniors sounds lovely today and I know you love Times Square.” She looked dubiously at me showing her regard for the tourist trap. Most New Yorker’s avoided that area of the City like the plague year round. I stifled a laugh. 

She looked down at her clothing, "Well, I need a shower and some clothing." She stepped back from me, I surged forward a little to stop her. I kissed her gently, feeling her melt against me. Her arms went up to circle around my neck. I kept it slow and steady, nearly losing control when a shiver went through her body like an electric current. I came up for air appreciating how she looked wearing my clothing. 

She seemed slightly dazed, “What was that for?” I shrugged and kissed her nose gently. “Just wanted to?” 

She shook her head at me and started walking away a big smile on her face. “Sneak.” She said as she left the room. 

It didn’t take long for either of us to get ready, I was lounging on the arm of my couch when she emerged from the guest room. Looking up, I almost dropped my phone looking at her. She was dressed for fall; ankle boots, dark leggings, a long cream colored sweater dress with her hair braided and artfully draped over a shoulder. Her "second favorite tote" was slung over one shoulder. She was wearing subtle makeup but she didn't try to conceal her bruises which stood livid and dark against her pale skin. There was something about her here in that moment that took my breath away. 

I had been busy while she was getting ready, I looked up the latest released movies and their showtimes. She reached her hand out for mine, ready to leave. 

The day unfolded from there. There was a new action movie we both wanted to see and nearly three hours in a dark theater seemed like a good start to our day. We both reclined our large seats back and put up the middle divider like we used to. We ended up drifting closer and closer through the movie, intertwined by the ending scene. 

The walk to Junior’s was familiar. Hands clasped and easy conversation. Catching up on a decade of life between us, realizing that we were just better, wiser versions of our younger selves. We both ordered burgers, she stole an onion ring and I stole a few fries. She gave me her tomato and I gave her half my pickle. For a moment we were who we use to be, I remembered the feel of sitting in our local diner booth on most Sundays. Both of us spreading papers on the table, working all afternoon. Some people went to church on Sunday, we went to Louie’s. 

I looked up to see a small knowing smile on her lips, I wasn’t the only one having thoughts about our past at dinner. 

When we got home we parted for the night with a plan for the next day. As much as I wanted to take another day off, Carmen at least needed my signature on a few documents. She offered to have them messengered to the apartment but Annie had suggested going in for a few hours while she looked at apartments. She said it would be good for her to do a few tasks alone and promised to call if she needed anything. 

I listened to her in the shower on tenterhooks, ready to intervene if she needed support again tonight. I breathed a little easier when I heard the door to the guest bedroom close a little bit later. I was soundly asleep hours later when I felt the blanket lift on the empty side of the bed. The mattress dipped and I woke up enough to reach out for her as she moved towards me. 

She settled against my chest with a quiet sigh, she was shaking slightly. I felt the moment she dropped back off, her body going soft as sleep found her again. I quickly followed.


	6. The Lineup

**Annie**

On Wednesday we met for lunch at a 24 hour diner down on 2nd. Rafael was trying to catch up on work after being out unexpectedly for two days and I had spent my morning looking at three apartments with a realtor. I knew that I wasn't comfortable going back to where I had been attacked unless it was to clear it out. 

Lunch was easy between us, we fell into patterns from years ago. My attack still loomed large in both our minds and each time we hinted around the future our conversation felt suddenly stiff. 

Neither one of us wanted to put too much on our fledgling reconciliation. Discussions came to a polite impasse as we both tried to sort out our feelings. We still struggled through, I marveled at how changed he was. He was so much more open and honest than eight years ago. No more fights or misunderstandings around trying to coax information or feelings out of him. Then again I knew he could say the same about me. I was never the most open or trusting person, most of our arguments as a couple were because of the way we both handled our feelings back then. 

We were standing at the register to pay when I heard ringing from my purse. I looked at the caller id, flashing a tight smile at Rafael. "It's the precinct." I stepped away to answer, I could tell that Rafa’s focus was still lingering on me. He approached only after I hung up, pretending to check something on his phone a little ways away from me. 

"They want me to come in for a lineup this afternoon." He seemed to deflate a little from relief, his face and shoulders relaxing. He stepped closer to me, “I’ll cancel my afternoon and come with you.” I grabbed his hand and navigated us out of the diner. “Don’t you dare. Carmen was counting on you being in after lunch, even if it’s just to go over tomorrow. You shouldn’t have to change your entire schedule on my account.”

He tugged on my hand and spun me into his arms, giving me a sour look, “You know that’s not how this works." 

I felt my mouth open but no sound came out, looking at his face I could tell that we both would stand there all day until I actually talked about what I was thinking. I swallowed whatever deflection was about to come out and tried to sort out what I wanted to say and reached to rest both of my hands on his torso.

"I don't want you to stop living your life, and work's important to you. I dropped into your life and you've been more than accommodating for the past three days."

His grip loosened a little, "You're afraid of the bubble?" 

I shrugged, “I’m not unaware of its existence.” 

The “bubble” was what we always referred to when new relationships that hadn’t established the best boundaries became a little insular. Where one or both parties got sucked into the black hole of the other person or the relationship at the expense of their already established friends and routine. With his work in the Brooklyn ADA’s office, and my being in graduate school we were already so pulled in opposite directions that we had to be much more intentional in our relationship eight years ago. We had spent the first few months of dating trying to spend all our free time with each other that our other relationships suffered. 

I leaned in close and tucked my head into his neck, breathing in the heady combo of his laundry soap and cologne. It smelled safe. I could feel him shift his hold, a hand coming to hold my head there. We were both still trying to sort this new normal out. I felt him take a few deep breaths after I tightened my arms into a hug around his body. 

"I'm holding on too tight. Which is ironic since I was the one who let go last time." 

My hands flexed on his body, annoyed. "You have  **got** to stop beating yourself up over what happened. You're acting out of guilt and it's clouding your judgement."

I felt his arms slack I leaned back to look up at him, he was distracted looking at something in the distance. I pushed onto the balls of my feet and pressed a kiss to his lips. His entire body reacted, his arms stiffening holding me there and the rest of his body softening into the kiss. I heard him inhale as I closed my eyes and leaned into it, he did as well. A feeling hummed between us and for the first time since early Sunday morning, my entire body felt alive. My lips parted, relaxing and greedy for more. 

We came up for air still standing on the sidewalk in the middle of Manhattan. I pushed away from his body and took a deep breath. "Well that wasn't guilt." The scorching look he gave me wasn't appropriate for public, but I took it with a knowing, amused smile. 

"You're right, I do love my job. We'll take a cab? I'll wrap up with Carmen and come meet you at the station?" I nodded and he quickly pressed a kiss to my forehead and turned to hail a cab.

A half hour later I was sitting in an interview room waiting for the lineup. The shades were drawn, and I was content pretending to read email while they set everything up. Detective Carisi had already talked me through the process, and how the identification would work. 

As they led the men in single file, I nearly took a step back seeing my attacker. A sudden rush of fear and dread. I felt foolish when I remembered the one way glass and literally being surrounded by police officers, but that initial fear was still there. They had barely stopped and turned before I identified him out loud. “Number four, he attacked me.” Executive ADA Cutter looked back to the other Lawyer in the room but didn’t say anything. The other lawyer spoke up, “Are you sure Miss Grey.” 

My eyes narrowed, “Yes. He broke into my apartment, drugged me, and kept me tied up for hours on Sunday.” I continued to study him as Detective Carisi reached up and knocked on the glass four times. A realization smacked me in the face, I leaned forward to get a better look, something about him was more familiar than just memories from Sunday. I realized it, connecting the face to other events. I've seen him before, I knew him. More memories from Sunday becoming clear, coming into focus. My hands reached out for something to grasp, my mind ricocheting. His name wasn't coming to me immediately but it would, I could feel it getting closer. 

I felt Detective Carisi turn, I could almost see it- the shape of his body turning back to the room. Suddenly there was an arm around my waist, someone's hand was on my upper arm. I heard a distant "Ma'am?" I swayed a little when my brain coughed up the information. "Asher Brooks?" Detective Carisi went stiff against my body for a moment, confirming my suspicion. I felt like I was near weightless, hands and feet bound, naked in the tub again, nothing was making sense. 

I felt my body moving but I can't tell you if it was voluntary, I started hiccupping as I felt my body lowering. Someone was helping me into a chair. 

Memories started to filter through the daze of realizing who was in that lineup room. Not many, we were never close, but I had consulted with his company a few times. Once when he was a startup and once before he sold the company to Oracle. We’d seen each other a few other times at charity or social events, Asher Brooks. He looked completely different from the last time I had seen him. 

Detective Carisi was kneeling in front of my chair saying something. I could feel a bottle of cold water in my hands, his hands wrapped around mine encouraging me to grip. Someone said Rafael’s name and that snapped me back into the present for a second.

“No, not yet.” I don’t know why I said it, I also didn't know if anyone heard me. Part of it was that I knew he needed to focus on something else right now even if it was just for a little while. Catching up on messages at work seemed like a good enough distraction. But there was more to it than just that. Part of it was that I wanted to put the pieces together before seeing him. I wanted to have some sort of explanation ready. To let him know without the stress of having to balance his overprotective feelings about me with his deep seated desire for justice. There was another part, the feeling of shame. I tried to set all of this aside and focus on the now. 

Years of my life were becoming clearer. “He was the stalker.” Carisi didn’t say anything, just continued to kneel. He also knew how to play the Rafael Barba waiting game. I looked around noticing we weren’t in an interrogation room, we were back in the interview room. Daylight, a soft couch, children’s toys in the corner, even in this welcoming space I felt caged, held prisoner again. 

I hiccuped again and whispered, "I met him in college." Like that statement would explain everything. All the little moments that two nights ago seemed inconsequential and suddenly out of my control took a different light. I knew exactly who was responsible, someone on the periphery, someone who wasn’t random. I took a drink of water trying to concentrate. I continued to drink slowly until I thought the hiccups had stopped eyes closed willing my diaphragm to stop spasming. 

Feeling more grounded I opened them to find that Carisi had relaxed from his stance kneeling in front of me. Instead he sat in one of the child sized chairs near the low table. I nearly laughed at the sight. I believe he would most of the time be described as ‘lanky’ so seeing him folded into a child’s chair was like watching a sumo wrestler do ballet. His knees were nearly at his ears. 

“Lieutenant Benson called Barba.” He said it flatly, the way someone might say 'we're out of milk'. I tossed the empty water bottle in the trash, dunking it on the first try. “Traitor.” I said it without any venom, I knew that keeping him out of this would be impossible. Rafa had more clout with these people than I did, their loyalties were to him first and me by proxy. 

Detective Carisi flashed a half second of a smile and a shrug, he stood and made his way to the door hearing a knock. 

The hum was back in my bones, Rafael was here. I closed my eyes, reveling in the connection. The door closed with a quiet click. I could feel him waiting to get closer, waiting for me. I looked up finally, he was standing near the chair Sonny had left. 

No jacket, hands nervously shoved into his pockets, French cuffs rolled up. God he was good looking. "Hey handsome." 

His expression was guarded, his eyes dark. I stood and took a few steps towards him, even though he was standing in front of me he seemed distant. Something was eating at him. I reached out to cup his cheek and he leaned into the contact closing his eyes. “Are you alright?” His voice was tightly controlled and quiet. 

"I'm okay. I was just shocked. Detective Carisi made sure I was okay. He’s a good egg." When he looked at me again his eyes were lighter, no longer a stormy green, the amber flecks more noticeable. I took advantage of his stooped posture and leaned in for a kiss. It took a few seconds for him to respond, his resistance broke with a quiet pained growl. 

“You’re not touching me Rafa.” He nodded and pulled his hands out of his pockets but still looking at a loss at what to do. He cleared his throat looking a little sheepish, “I uh… Olivia made me calm down before seeing you.” His hands found my waist and he seemed to relax a little more. “She’s a good friend to you.” I smiled feeling happier that he was here, my earlier worry and shame gone now that he was present. 

“I was worried, I wanted to fix this somehow. Come in yelling at anyone I could, shield you from more pain. More upset.” I wrapped my arms around him, leaning into his body. “But she made me calm down and I realized that that’s what I wanted, not what you needed. That coming in like a ‘Latin hot head’ might upset you worse.” I chuckled and shifted my arms around him, tightening my hold. “She didn’t!” A quiet laugh rattled in his chest, “Oh, she did. I swear she was moments away from pulling out a squirt gun and spraying me with it.” 

He got quiet again, I could tell he was thinking, mulling something over. We heard a quiet knock on the door, I made to step back but Rafa held on not letting me go just yet. Olivia opened the door and smiled slightly at us. “He’s in holding, he’ll be arraigned tomorrow. His arrest caused a bit of a commotion, there are a few reporters outside.” Rafael’s arms tightened fractionally trying to shield and protect me from danger that wasn’t in the room. 

I took a breath and let it out slowly wincing when I inhaled too deep, my rib protesting. I was going to have to check my appearance before we left and I was suddenly wishing I had worn something a little nicer. I knew that most people didn’t understand my work, the constant considerations around appearances and perception but it was critical in controlling the narrative and getting the best outcome. 

I cleared my throat, “Is there somewhere I can freshen up?” 

Liv nodded, “Of course, ask Carisi to clear out the locker room for you.” I untangled myself from Rafa and left the room. It took just as long for him to let me go as it had taken for him to hold me in the first place.

Sonny, as he asked me to call him, only had to run off one beat cop out of the locker room and stayed guard while I pulled myself together. Thankfully my makeup wasn’t too melty, just a mascara smudge that needed removed. I pulled the sleeves of my long cardigan up, covering the handprint bruise that had developed. My hair was easy to manage, with a shake and a simple twist it went into a chignon making the bruises on my cheek and neck stand livid on my pale skin. That's what the cameras would catch, my face. 

It was almost too easy for me to detach and disassociate from current events to walk out. I felt my spine tighten as I appraised myself through the eyes of a PR expert.  _ It’ll do. _

I was buoyed by Rafael’s presence when we stepped out of the precinct. There was a small but eager crowd of reporters and journalists. I stood in front of them, ready for this challenge. 

“I’m not commenting on the case, however I will make a statement at this time.” Lights flashed as photogs took pictures and I schooled my body language into a softer, more vulnerable presentation. 

“Seven and a half million people are stalked each year in America. Half of all stalking victims are fearful that they’ll come to bodily harm. I did. My story is one in thousands that are experienced in the city today. My attacker may have made me a victim, but with the help and dedicated work of the NYPD and the Manhattan DA’s office I’ll make myself a survivor. He’ll be placed behind bars so he can never do this to another woman. Thank you.” 

I stepped back slightly, directly into Rafa’s sturdy frame, he quickly took charge leading me to the open door of a waiting town car. Shouted questions and the buzz click of DSLR cameras drowned out any thoughts. 

Instead of overwhelmed, I felt numb. I closed my eyes and clasped my hands tightly, flashes of discordant memories playing in my head. Happy, sad, dinner parties with friends and my father telling me my mother had died, my first press briefing. Nothing made sense, I couldn’t  _ feel _ the emotional attachment to these moments. I realized that my frayed mental state was compensating by going crazy. Throwing images and feelings out seeing if anything would stick. 

I tried to say something but all that happened was a small gasp and my vision darkened. I heard Rafa speak as he gently rubbed my back, “It’s ok a rún, it’s ok. If you let go I got you. I’m right here. I’m right here for you.” 

Later I came back to reality slowly like I had at the hospital. I found myself resting in Rafa’s king size bed. The shades were drawn and someone had stacked pillows behind me for support. I wasn’t wearing my shoes or my jacket, but I was still dressed from the morning. I remembered what happened this afternoon. The press conference, how I started shaking in the car, Rafa getting me into the apartment. I remembered how worried he looked while tucking me into his bed. 

Before I could sit up the door opened and Rafa was silhouetted against the warm light pouring in from the hallway. He gently kicked the door shut, his hands were full with a tray. He stopped short when he noticed I was watching him, the relief on his face was apparent. 

He set the tray down on the nightstand and came to sit on the edge of the bed as I scooted up against the headboard. 

“Marc said if you didn’t wake up soon he was hiring a marching band.” I brightened at the mention of Sasha’s husband. He had been away for a week at a medical conference in San Diego. 

“He didn’t order a head CT?” Rafa handed me a mug of warm tea, “He listened to your symptoms, I told him what happened today, he diagnosed you with vasovagal syncope.” 

I paused, trying to connect the medical term to its more common meaning. “I swooned?!” It came out a bit more indignant than I intended. He hid his smile behind his mug. 

We both took a drink, putting our conversation on pause for a second. I reached out and put my hand on his knee, his hand settled over mine. “This is going to be hard isn’t it?” 

He sighed and set his mug down, scooting forward, “Yes, it’s going to be hard a rún.” 

I cradled my mug to my chest, trying to find the words to start my next question. He took my mug and set it down. His hands were warm from the mugs as he held mine. “You’re trying to find a way to tell me it’s ok if I’m not up for it.” 

I felt a tear finally slip, “It’s a lot Rafa, and I don’t want to drag you down with me. You stood by me today and that means so  _ so _ much to me.” 

He let go to rub his eyes and rake his fingers through his hair before gripping my hands again. 

“I’m here, you couldn’t drag me away.” I heaved a relieved breath, I hadn’t realized how scared I had been asking that question. “I do have conditions I’d like to negotiate.” He reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. 

I tried to put on a humorous tone, “Present your case counselor.” 

“Therapy. You and me, lots of therapy.” I frowned, that wasn’t what I was expecting. “Annie I want to do this the right way. I want us to be stronger at the end of this and that means maybe we need some help.” 

The more I thought about it the more it made sense. I nodded my assent, "I want us to work too Rafa." He looked relieved as he lifted my hand to kiss my knuckles. 

"Stay here, stay with me. At least through the trial? The guest room is yours, I just want you close." 

“Do you want me close because you think it would help me or because it will help you?” I pulled him closer hoping to cut the sting of my question. He adjusted by sitting up against the headboard and tucking me into his chest. 

“I’m not going to lie, I think both?” I closed my eyes and breathed him in, my hand resting on his chest feeling his steady heartbeat. His hand settled over mine, when he spoke I could hear the strain in his voice. “I just feel like I’m going to lose you, and I’d like you close? And I think the support would be good for you.” 

I snuggled closer and chuckled, he pulled back wondering about my reaction. I felt the “Hmm” through my bones. “I still leave my socks everywhere.” 

He started chuckling, “A rún, I pray for the day I get annoyed because I find a lost sock of yours somewhere weird.”


	7. Charged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafa catches up with the prosecutor on Annies case.

**Rafael**

Executive ADA Cutter stood in his office, his figure framed by the window that he was in front of. He looked imposing, staring out at Lower Manhattan, jacketless and holding a large mug of coffee. The door was open but I knocked anyways, I was there as someone adjacent to the victim not as a colleague. He turned and came to shake my hand, cordial but professional. 

"It's good to see you Rafael, I wish...." he broke off and closed the door behind us and we sat at his small conference table. Leaving the sentiment unfinished. They both knew what he was trying to say. How many times had Rafa had to say it to a victim, he meant it every time. 

He seemed to gather his thoughts, about to speak. I interrupted, "He won't take a plea will he?" 

His face softened in relief. "He won't take a plea, he wants his day in court."

I sat thinking for a minute, “He’ll get out on bail. I can just feel it.” 

Michael nodded and sat back in his chair. ”He has enough money to do it. I’ve already written the motion for an Order of Protection. I don’t want to take any chances on this.” 

Something in the way he said that gave me pause. “How bad is his obsession?.” 

“When she was in D.C. it’s classic intimacy stalker territory but apparently her shutting down the company in D.C. and moving here changed that to predator realm. He took that as her breaking up with him. He wanted revenge. There was no way he was going to let her live after he was done.” Carisi has said that his obsession was extensive, but wouldn’t say much more. 

Something painful twisted in my stomach, her big, brave mouth kept her alive. Shouting for help had sufficiently thrown him off his plan that he fled instead of taking more drastic action. 

Michael drummed his fingers on a folder then shifted to sit back in his chair. “I assume she knows how hard a trial can be?” I nodded. “She saw me go through some tough cases as Brooklyn ADA, but I don’t think either of us know what this side of a case is going to be like.” 

Michael nodded, “I don’t think the defense has much of a case, we have physical evidence, photographic evidence, the warrant for his apartment yielded a trove of dated photos and letters. Hell, the PI he hired is our witness! Brooks told him that he was following his ex wife over an alimony fight.” 

I sat back thinking happy that SVU had been busy in the two days since his arrest, “It’s her reaction he really wants, to just torture her again every day of the trial. Does he realize she will only be there when she gives her testimony as a material witness?" I shook my head, "He's cuckoo crazy." 

Michael shrugged and raised his hands up in mock surrender, "I know, you know, but not everyone knows this.” 

Rafael sat for some time considering, “His lawyer going to try for an insanity plea?” 

Michael shook his head. “His lawyer wants him to but he apparently won’t allow it. He thinks that anyone will see his actions as reasonable.” 

He paused and looked pointedly at me, “I have to ask…” 

I nodded, “I’ll stay out of your kitchen. I can tell you that she’ll make an excellent witness. I’m just the support.” My voice faltered over the last word, everything between us still too tenuous and unsaid. My mind flashed to waking up and not finding her in bed the night before. A second of the cold terror I had felt shot through my system and I stuffed it down, regaining my composure. I found her in the living room wide awake and shaking in her favorite armchair. 

Michael considered that for a moment. “Her statement was a thing of beauty, no specifics, relatable. She made herself an example not the poster child. You both have all the support you need?” 

“We do, thank you. If you need anything... " I trailed off knowing that although he might welcome another seasoned prosecutor, my relationship would preclude any official role in the case. I stood and shook his hand trying to set aside my control freak tendencies. 

My hand had just settled on the door knob when he caught my attention again. “Barba? We got this, she’s family.” 

I resisted every urge to call her as soon as I made it back to my office. It was the first full day back for both of us, Carmen had kept my office running but I still had a mountain of paperwork to work through. Annie was spending the day working through her own backlog and needed to focus. I had seen the signs of her starting to go stir crazy last night, a good day at work would help get her back to normal. 

It was 6:30pm when I finally felt like I made a dent in the work and could stop. I sent Carmen home earlier with my thanks for the past few days. I started packing, remembering doing the same a few days ago before my phone started ringing. I couldn’t believe that it was just a Sunday, how my life had righted towards her in that short amount of time. 

Olivia's text came as I was putting on my jacket. 

**"He made bail. I'm waiting for Annie to return my call to let her know. The TPO was granted."**

I texted my thanks back and hurried out, grabbing a cab on the corner. I had texted Annie’s assistant after lunch about picking her up after work and she responded that security had a pass for me at their desk. The drive to Columbus Circle was faster than usual and I thanked god for small miracles at the tail end of rush hour. I grew more impatient with each floor, watching them tick by slowly. 

I looked up her business website at lunch but seeing her offices in person was completely surreal. She had gotten her start in cramped, box filled closets that someone just labeled as an office. Now she had an entire floor of an office building in Midtown Manhattan. Crisp modern office decor with on trend but comfortable furniture. Little touches of Annie showed in the artwork chosen, while Sasha's influence appeared in the flower arrangements scattered throughout. 

A woman was standing by the reception desk and greeted me as soon as I got my bearings. “ADA Barba, I can show you to her office.” 

We swiped in, and she led us past a maze of offices and cubicles towards the corner of the building. My breath hitched when I saw her, her office was all glass and with floor to ceiling windows. Standing in the corner office it looked like she was just floating above Midtown Manhattan.

An angel in Max Mara. Through the glass I watched as she stalked from one side of her office to the other, she had an earpiece in and was rubbing the back of her neck. He couldn't make out what she was saying but he understood when she caught sight of him standing outside her door. She waved him in and walked back to her desk. _"Slán agus beannacht leat."_ She jabbed at her desk phone and yanked her headset out of her ear. 

Rafa didn't need to be a detective to deduce who she was talking to. Her words literally meant "Goodbye and blessings be with you" but her annoyed tone and how quickly she hung up the line he knew it had to be her brother, Niall. 

He decided to confront the moment head on and not deflect. "How's the golden boy?" He tried to pitch it as genuine curiosity and good humor, putting their past behind them. She smiled at him as she packed her purse with a few files and threw in her cellphone. 

"He's good. I just wish his 'caring' came off a little less like 'interfering in my life' and more like 'oh no, can I send you a spa day' you know?" 

Rafael unbuttoned his jacket and set his briefcase down in a chair before moving behind her desk. His hand barely brushed hers before she turned into him for a hug. Obligingly he wrapped her in his arms, willing to give her whatever strength he could. He took comfort in her presence against him, an anxiety that had settled in his body softening. He felt a sigh reverberate through her and she pulled back a little. "Hey handsome. How were the salt mines?" 

With one last squeeze Rafael laughed and let her go, "You know my coworkers, more like the 'salty mines'." She huffed a quiet laugh and handed him her bag as she shrugged on her jacket and belted it tightly. 

"What are we doing tonight, _mangon_?" She took her bag off his hands and slung it over her shoulder with a practiced heft. I wondered when her favorite tote would no longer be evidence, if she would ever want to use it again. I remembered putting the access card in the pocket for her when she was released, how it felt welcoming her back into my life. I felt a flash of sadness knowing the conversation they needed to have tonight. She slipped her hand in mine and led us towards the door pausing to let him pick up his bag. 

While they stood at the elevator he felt her studying him. "I've seen that look. No good news for me tonight." I guided her onto the elevator knowing I was running out of time to delay answering her. "He made bail." 

She nodded and surprisingly didn't look defeated. "We knew that was a likely outcome, we talked about this. He comes off very… rational." I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, the relief spreading from my toes to my ears. I lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles, "There's a difference between it being a possibility and it happening. I was just afraid that it was going to be too much. I don't like hurting you _a rún_." 

She gave me a pitying look, "You dumb sweet man, when will you learn that I'm made from stronger stuff. What's the good news?" She knew me too well. I always opened with the bad news to make the good seem that much better. "The TPO was granted and there will be uni's outside wherever you're staying through the trial." 

He watched for any sort of reaction and was happy to see her shoulders relax a little under the jacket. She took the lead in navigating them out of the building and towards the curb to grab a taxi. He wondered when he wouldn't have so much he wanted to say to her, when he wouldn't constantly feel like I hadn't failed her. 

In the cab she tucked her body along mine, maximizing their physical contact and reassuring me. They both were quiet that night, subdued by the news. She waved to the patrol car parked outside and they flashed their lights acknowledging her. She seemed comforted by their presence and he was thankful for her connections to rate the protection. 

Their evening brightened after they got home, Annie kicked off her heels in the spare bedroom and changed into something more comfortable while I ordered sushi for dinner. We caught each other up about our days, sitting at that same breakfast bar from our first meal together a few days ago. There was already so much familiar between us even with our unknown future.

When she yawned twice in the span of five minutes I suggested an early night for us both. She must have been tired because she didn't balk at the suggestion and instead kissed my temple and walked away. Annie retired to the spare bedroom and I settled into my bed for a late night of reviewing case files. When I had to reread the same paragraph three times I gave up for the evening and settled in to try to sleep. I worried about her, laying there in the dark. Every creak of the apartment or whisper of noise I thought something had happened to Annie. 

I couldn't tell you what time it was when I felt the bed dip as she climbed in, but I woke up instantly when her cold feet found mine under the blankets. I grunted in surprise and wondered if it was too early to turn on the radiant heat system in the apartment. The tip of her nose burrowed into the back of my neck as her arm wrapped around my chest. 

I let her body settle against mine for a little while, both of us awake. Her voice was quiet in the darkness and she had to clear her throat, "I woke up and I forgot where I was, and for a second I was back there Raf. I think I'm going to be okay and then it all comes crashing back." 

I rolled over and pulled her into my arms. "It takes time _a rún_. There are no shortcuts through this I'm sorry. But I'm here, and you're here. You're safe, you have so many people on your side."

She nodded and buried her face into my chest. We drifted off like that, heart to heart. Together.


	8. Trial Prep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an evening of trial prep Rafael is there to lend his support.

**Annie**

The courtroom was freezing the evening ADA Cutter arranged for us to be there for trial prep. Although it was still a week away from when I was expected to be called he wanted to make sure I would be comfortable on the stand, and have a feel for the room. 

I had ditched Rafa at his apartment asking him to cook dinner for us, partially because I loved his cooking and partially because I didn’t want him to over analyze and stress over my testimony. The thought of waking up at two am with him wide awake next to me muttering about putting more emphasis on parts of my testimony didn't sound fun for either of us. 

We had been at it for a couple hours, his questions were relatively simple. That I didn’t recognize him that night only realized who he was at the lineup. He looked completely different from the last time we’d seen each other at a charity event in D.C over a year ago. Even then he was well into his obsession with me. 

Describing how he drugged me in my bed late at night by injecting me with midazolam, a prescription that was intended to help treat his seizure disorder. I could speak to knowing of his seizure disorder since he had disclosed that to me years ago in casual conversation but the connection between them needed to be made by the evidence and further testimony. 

I could talk about the hours that he terrorized me in my own apartment. The pain I suffered at his hands. Photos of my injuries would be shown for effect but the description of my injuries would have already been done by the doctor on call that night in the emergency room. What I was going to walk through photo by photo was  _ how  _ I got them. The bruise on my forearm from when he dragged me into the bathroom, the contusions around my right eye from when he backhanded me. My wrist injury from trying to catch myself when I attempted to escape my bed, drugged and disoriented. The bruises across my torso, the darkening around my ribs from when he kicked me. 

Rehashing it all was excruciating, Michael made sure to take breaks, ask how I was doing, if I had any questions about the process. What I didn’t tell him, or Rafa, is that my staff had been prepping me this entire time. Sasha had hired a lawyer to write likely questions for the defense cross examination. At least once a day Sasha went in for a kill question. How could I know it was him, how the lineup might have flawed or the cops may have led me towards picking him out of the crowd. How an errant glance at Asher could have easily been confused as interest in his eyes. 

Michael reviewed his notes one last time before looking up at me with a small smile. “That’s it! You’re done.” I took a deep cleansing breath putting what had happened over the past few hours behind me. He came over to offer me his hand to step down from the witness box, “My assistant will keep you in the loop for where we are in the case. You and I will have a phone call a couple days ahead of when you’re expected to take the stand to go over any last details. And please, reach out to me if you need anything at all.” 

“Of course, thank you for all your time today.” She went to grab her jacket and he reached a hand out to take it and help her into it. He escorted me out of the courthouse making casual small talk, asking after people we had in common, or upcoming events we might see each other at. It was easy to put the professional mask on to make small talk, to walk and talk and pretend that we had just discussed the new launch of a jet engine. 

The hired town car was idling at the curb as we said our goodbyes. The car, was an insistence from Sasha and backed by Rafa. I chafed under the security restrictions. Sasha has always had my location through my phone, and she had threatened to call in a favor from a security company and have someone assigned as my bodyguard. I loved making conversation with cabbies in every city I had lived and town car drivers often kept quiet on trips giving their clients their privacy. 

I fished my cell phone out of my purse and checked my messages. Trying to distract myself through emails and new text messages, willing the car to go faster in the evening traffic on the West Side Highway. When we finally pulled into the porte-cochère of Rafa’s apartment building any distance I had managed to put between me, what had happened, and the more than through questioning ADA Cutter started to narrow. I could feel myself unraveling. 

I thanked the driver as I departed, rushing into the building trying to throw a chipper “good evening” to both the doorman and concierge. I could feel the anxiety crawling up my chest, closing my throat. I tapped my cell phone in my hand waiting for the elevator, staring at the numbers counting down. 

I closed my eyes hearing the ding of the elevator's arrival letting out a short tight breath. When I opened them he was standing there, Rafa. He was dressed for lounging, battered Harvard t-shirt I always tried to steal and basketball shorts, his feet bare. He was holding the door open with one hand, a calm but worried expression on his face. His eyes studied me and he reached out drawing me into the car, into his arms. He didn’t try to shush or minimize my pain, he just held and accepted it. Around floor four I started shaking, and at the tenth the tears came, and still he held me. 

He didn’t even lock the front door just kicking the door with his foot and leading me directly to his master bath. He sat me on the bench and knelt to pull off my shoes, I composed myself long enough to thread a hand through his hair watching him lean into the contact. This was a weakness of his, he always responded like a starved man for my touch. The remote prosecutor, untouchable, unknowable was never the man I touched. He looked up at me, his eyes bright and watery, full of emotion. He stood and gently tugged me upright, holding me close with his entire body, his presence against me comforting. 

He started small, his hand lifting to the clip holding my hair up. “May I?” The question was a whisper between us. I nodded and my hair cascaded, his fingers moving to shake it out, loosen it from the tight chignon I had it in all day. His fingers soothed the ache of having it up all day too tight. He touched the closure on my coat and caught my attention again, “May I?” His tenderness and care broke my heart. “Yes.” 

He kissed my lips gently, letting the material slide over my arms. Every moment, every way he touched me was my choice, at every step he made it clear that I was in control. That if I didn’t like anything, started to feel panicked, I knew he would stop. Instead of any worry I felt secure, I felt precious in his hands. 

I didn’t realize until later that he had moved us gently towards the shower. He turned to open the taps, throwing an aromatherapy tab in, the scent of bergamot and lavender drifting up on the steam. Feeling the heat of the water warm the room.

When he turned back I felt stronger, more settled. I noticed how much stress he was carrying in his shoulders, how his hand had trembled each time he moved to touch me. How absolutely present he was in being here with me. Some part of me that had been closed off, unopened since we had broken up years before slammed open. A rush of need and desire burned through my veins. 

I tugged at his shirt, dipping my hands under it, lifting it as they traveled up. His hair got tousled in the way I loved as the collar slid over his head. I put my fingers through it again half a mind to fix it, half a mind to tousle it more. 

His eyes closed under my touch and I took advantage of him being distracted by stealing a deep lush kiss from him. His breath hitched as my hands dropped and pushed the waistband of his shorts down, tracing a path down his sides until they fell away. His hand came to rest on my hip, and when I broke the kiss off I felt his hand flex. For a fraction of a second I felt desperation in his grip, wanting more. More of this, more of me; until the steady, patient part of him took over. The part of him that let her go years before because he was afraid of ruining my life or forcing me to choose between him and what was left of my family.

I didn’t fault him for resisting, he was always cautious, meticulous. He knew my emotions were all over the place right now and there he was, my rudder, my anchor. As much as I wanted to kiss him, and touch him until he broke this wall between us, I knew it wouldn’t be fair for either of us. I remembered our first kiss, how we both leaned in for it, the tentative way our lips touched until I responded. How he then threw everything of himself into that kiss. I flushed remembering the way I felt in his hands, his fingers lighting fires down my body. 

We stood under the shower together for longer than necessary, my head resting on his chest. Between the sound of the water and the slow steady beat of his heart I let go of everything tonight had brought up. Like a stone in the river I let the water round off the sharp edges of memory and fear. He washed my hair and planted soft kisses from my shoulder to my chin when I tipped my head back to rinse. 

Later, after he wrapped me up in his robe and towel dried my hair, we sat at the breakfast bar and ate the dinner he had prepared. Beef stew with soda bread from scratch. Thank god he wasn’t above potatoes  _ and  _ bread in a single meal. 

He caught me up on his day, telling me about something funny Carmen said to him between meetings and making plans for a few weeks away. I caught him up about a new client and how Sasha was angling for expanding our staff before I opened up about what happened. How reliving events for testimony was affecting me. He listened and held my hand, just letting me feel. 

We had both been reminded in therapy that we needed to share more, the nature of our jobs were both confidential and high stress. That sharing, no matter how small was good for us. He had confessed a few nights before that he hated bringing up his own fears about the trial or my recovery with me, that he felt he was making my trauma about him. 

We went to bed and tried to sleep but I could feel both of us laying there in silence. It was well past the time that either of us would be able to get enough sleep for the next day when I felt the bed shift and Rafa’s body fitted against mine. It seemed that the only times we could be truly honest and without our armor was lying half asleep in bed. 

“I was terrified that tonight was going to set you back.” The words settled over us like a secret and I felt his face turn into the bed and my shoulder, I could hear the shame in his voice. “I was scared that the pain he caused you would outweigh my love.” 

I started to roll over, to try to kiss or talk him out of this feeling but he tightened his grip. “And then I saw you standing there, battered but not broken. And I gave you space, and I gave you time and you came back.” 

He said it without needing a response, sharing just to let me in. I started to drift off, letting the comfort of his body against mine. Before I embraced sleep I roused a little to pull his arm tighter across my body glad when I heard the quiet grunt of surprise and his arm pull a little tighter, “I will always come back to you Rafa.”


	9. The Quiet Between

**Rafael:**

I had kept Annie out of the weeks of pretrial hearings as much as possible. If you aren't familiar with the rhythm of criminal cases it could be stressful to hear the multiple motions arguments that may or may not affect a trial. Indeed, now that the jury was seated she was focusing solely on her recovery. She knew enough about the process that it only would make her worry more, and as a material witness and a victim she was barred from being able to sit in the gallery day to day. But now she was going to be called tomorrow to deliver her testimony. 

Carisi had kept me aware of the day to day, texting me updates every few hours. It wasn’t the same as sitting in the gallery day in and day out, but he framed it with both a cop and a lawyer's eye which was helpful. Asher Brooks had a few outbursts in the past few days, going so far as getting held in contempt by the judge. I hoped for Annie’s sake that there would be no fireworks tomorrow.

She tried to be chipper through dinner, but I could see her stress and worry peeking through her facade. In the quiet moments of our conversation, the shake in her hand when reaching for her wine glass or a glance at the clock between bites. The fact that she turned down cheesecake and coffee after dinner worried me. 

Instead we laid on the couch, me reading the new Alexander Hamilton biography and her curled against my side reading a tattered copy of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. After a few chapters of my book I felt her breathing even out and her book slid lower. I was slightly comforted that she fell asleep so easily. I read a few more chapters, content with her asleep next to me before yawning myself after a rather sedate explanation of Hamilton passing the bar in 1782. I set our books on the side table before gently brushing the hair away from her face. Her ribs and bruises had healed, and each day she seemed more herself. I shifted slightly so I was able to run one hand down her side and the other speared in her hair to scratch her scalp. "Bedtime _a rún_." Her body stretched a little and she turned to press her face into my body. Eventually she stood and reached a hand out for me, that small smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

Our bedtime routine was decently fixed. She'd wash her face while I changed, I washed mine while she brushed her teeth, I'd brush my teeth while she brushed her hair and twisted it up in a messy bun to sleep in. When I had put in the side by side sinks I hadn't thought that this would be the result. I had wanted to put in a larger towel warmer but the architect suggested that twin sinks in the master would be better if I ever wanted to sell. 

She touched my low back as she left the bathroom, letting me know she was there. I crawled into bed while she pulled out an overly large and frayed Dartmouth t-shirt she wore for bed sometimes. 

I woke up a few hours later, terror running through my veins. Thank god Annie was still asleep next to me. She had several nightmares after her attack and it broke my heart every time I woke up and realized it. I always found her half asleep jammed into the corner of the couch, full mug of chamomile tea left cold. How many nights didn’t I wake up? 

Suddenly when faced with a nightmare myself, beyond the common waking up in a cold sweat that comes from working SVU cases, but real actual nightmares- I knew her desire to leave our bed. The vivid scene had played in my head over and over, me in front of a jury arguing a case and when I looked at the evidence photos they were all her. Her eyes open and lifeless every time. 

I felt like I was choking, my stomach in knots. I left as gently as I could, not wanting to disturb her rest. The Chesterfield armchair in my office was comfortable and almost relaxing after I poured myself a drink. I was trying to use good rum to chase away bad images. 

I put a hand over my face and clutched my third tumbler of rum. I could feel the alcohol burning its way through my body. It had at least driven the lingering cold chill off my body. Closing my eyes I focused on recent better memories with Annie, seeing her alive and happy in my memory helped alleviate some of my anxiety. Her smile over a forkful of cheesecake at Juniors. Her concerned face when I came home late stressed about a case last week. Holding hands in therapy while we both tried to make this time permanent. She was asleep in my bed tonight. She was alive in my bed tonight _._

I looked up, startled when the glass eased out of my hand finding Annie there. If the booze warmed me up the sight of her set me on fire. She had changed from her comfy Dartmouth shirt into a black silk chemise and a matching lace robe left open. Her hair was loose and shone in the low light from my desk lamp. 

Her face was inscrutable, "I woke up alone." She lifted the glass to her nose and sniffed taking a small sip. "Good rum." I sat up a little about to reach for her when she silently shook her head, stilling my movements. Her free hand lifted the hem of her nightgown a little as she planted a knee on either side of me, straddling my lap. Her hair swung around her shoulders. Soft waves of brown and red curtaining her face for a moment while she settled over me. She leaned back to study me still swirling the rum. She drank half of it down in a gulp. I could see a bead that escaped and ran down her chin and dropped to her chest. I lost any willpower seeing that, thinking of what that rum would taste like off her body. My hand went to her waist, she was warm and solid in front of me. She was more than anything, _alive_. It felt like a prayer in my thoughts. 

She was still holding the tumbler of rum she set her free hand on my chest to steady herself trailing sparks where she touched me. The silk of her chemise quickly heated between us under my hand, I reached up cupping her face and drawing her down. At the last possible moment I kissed and licked the rum from her chest. She inhaled sharply, her breathing slightly harsh against the quiet of my apartment. I continued to pull her down as I reached up for her, kissing and licking my way up to her lips. The rum made her mouth taste sweeter as I dipped my tongue into it. The vanilla and nutmeg hints of the rum coming through each kiss. My hands flexed, wanting to pull her closer. I broke off our kiss and leaned back into the chair remembering her injuries. I let my hands relax, lowering them to rest on the sides of her thighs. 

"I'm not going to break Rafa." She took a sip of the rum while shrugging out of the robe. I felt it puddle on my feet. "Every time you touch me, you erase a little bit more of him." She finished the rum and leaned over to set the glass aside. The movement caused the silk to slip lower on her left side, revealing more of her chest. 

Straightening up, she pulled my hand to rest on her, my thumb wrapped under and around the curve of her breast. I could feel her heart at my fingertips steady and strong. I closed my eyes soaking in the feeling of her in my hands again. I had missed her in eight years, our chemistry was electrifying. I had dated other women, but none of them in that time captivated my mind and body like Annie. What I hadn’t realized was even having her near me for the past several weeks there was still deep seated longing and loss between us. 

"It's not just that _a rún_ ." I paused trying to think of the right way to frame what I needed to say. "When people go through what you survived, little things can take them back to their worst moments. Little things that never had been a problem before might retraumatize you. If that happened, if _I_ caused that, I'd never be able to forgive myself." She nodded as her fingers ruffled my hair, massaging away stress I didn't even realize had built up. 

"I know. I'm not foolish enough to think that it's not a possibility and my therapist and I have been talking about it." She paused to lean down and kiss me, softly and slowly before settling back again. "I woke up tonight, and you weren't there." I grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips again interrupting her, "I'm sorry you had a bad dream and I wasn't there." She made a face and covered my mouth with her hand, annoyed at me interrupting. "I woke up because I wanted you. I woke up _wanting_ you." Her hand dropped away.

My rum addled brain took a moment to catch up, _Oh_. Her slightly face was slightly apprehensive wondering how I was going to react. It melted into a playful look as I smiled up at her. My hand was still on her chest, her heart steady and strong. I stroked it across and up, cupping the side of her neck. 

"If anything… even a flash." I slid my hand resting on her thigh down tracing my fingertips over her knee only to then slide it back up this time under the silk. She traced my eyebrow with her fingers, "I promise." She leaned to kiss just behind my ear, her nose nuzzling and I heard her whisper, "Take me to bed." 

We woke up much as we fell asleep, naked and twined together. Her robe left in my office, her chemise was lost in the hallway, my pajamas dumped on her side of the bed. The sight of her bathed in moonlight on my bed would be a memory I would carry to my grave. And now this morning. Waking up before her, the feel of her body pressed against mine with the first rays of daylight peeking through my window would be indelibly remembered as well. 

She was pressed into my neck, starting to wake up and I ran my fingers through her hair encouraging her. Something about the morning always made her look slightly different. It wasn’t just the pillow lines or the tousled hair exactly. It was everything, it was her in private. Her voice was quiet against my neck, “What time is it?” I scooted down a little to be nose to nose with her pressing a soft kiss on her lips. “Early. Can I convince you to have something other than just coffee for breakfast? You don’t want to be jittery on the stand.” Her free hand began tracing patterns over my side and along my back, only to smooth them away with her palm and start again. 

“Eggs, rice, black beans?” I ran my nose along hers, “As you wish.” I made to leave the bed but her grip tightened, legs and arms resisting my departure. She leaned back a little to be able to see me, “Last night.” I waited for her, keeping my breathing steady afraid of what she might say. “That was exactly what I needed. _You’re_ exactly what I needed. You erased more than him. You faded this doubt of mine, that one day my relationships would be fine and the next they’d disappear. But you came back.” I traced her cheek, where the bruise that had lingered there was finally no more than a memory for us both. I realized the weight of her words- that she’d been waiting for people to walk away. 

Her job already allowed her to stay removed from most intimate interaction and friendships. She was the cool, calm, professional- ready to swoop in to an emergency without notice and handle the situation. She had to travel unexpectedly, often waiting for things to go wrong so she could do her job. Eight years ago I had reinforced that pattern. She had told me that her brother's opinion didn’t matter, that we could still move forward. That she _wanted_ to move forward. But I was too hung up on the shame and remorse about my fight with Niall that I just let her go instead. 

I kissed her deeply and slowly breaking it off with a smile. “I want us to work Annie, I don’t want to lose you again.” She stretched, untangling our bodies and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “Same _mi alma_. Go shower.” 

I didn’t talk much on the car ride to the courthouse. Cutter had prepped the case well, presented the evidence- days of evidence, and now today was Annie’s day. She would go in deliver her testimony, get cross examined and tonight we would eat dinner and go to bed early. Mamá was already headed down to my apartment to get dinner started and take delivery of some weekend essentials. Unlike several weeks ago, Annie and I both planned vacation days and we’re going to take a long weekend to shut out the rest of the world. 

Getting through the throng of press wasn’t terrible, the questions they hurled at us were easily ignored. The clicks DSLR cameras and the shuffling of feet followed us until we made it to the security cordon, the press being pushed back by extra security at the entrance. 

We stood on line to get into the building, usually I just used my Secure Pass and walked through but even witnesses had to go through the security checkpoint. I waited with her outside the courtroom discussing nothing of import. It felt unnatural to be in the courthouse and not be trying a case. Attempting to calm me she kissed me gently to stop the unending meaningless conversation. 

“Go inside, I’ll be fine.” I scrambled for an excuse to stay with her, she knew it was killing me not observing the trial and it would kill me not sitting with her. She pushed me away a little, “Go. You gotta get a good seat to watch my testimony.” 

I stood but hesitated, still not wanting to leave her alone. Olivia thankfully appeared from around the corner. She pocketed her phone as she approached, “Rafa, you should go check out the murals in the courtroom.” 

I looked back and forth between them for a moment, my eyes narrowing. “You know if there was money involved in this little conspiracy here it would be considered racketeering.” Olivia knew full well that I had argued at least two cases in this room. This was a setup. 

“Detective Benson, it’s so lovely to see you.” Annie's voice was bright and engaged, the one I’ve heard a hundred times before when managing a client. 

I put my hands up in mock surrender before leaning down and giving Annie a gentle kiss on the forehead and walking to the door. I took one last look back at them, already deep in conversation before heading in to find a seat.


End file.
